


Have Some Faith

by LeapAngstily



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluffity fluff, M/M, Mentioned Divorce, PWP - Porn with Peerlo, implied infidelity, with some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea has gotten so used to having Riccardo around that he finds it hard to cope when the injury is healed and Riccardo is ready to get back in action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have Some Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Written in celebration of Monto getting called up for the Derby last weekend, because even though he didn’t play, it means his recovery is all but complete and it’s only a matter of time before he’s back on the pitch. That, and I was craving for some PeerloMonto fluff.
> 
> Set on the night between Saturday and Sunday, after Juve’s match against Lazio in Rome but before the Derby.

_You did great. I’ll do my best not to disappoint tomorrow! xx_  
  
  
Andrea had almost managed to forget that Riccardo had been called up for the Milan Derby.  
  
Just almost, because forgetting has proven to be exceptionally difficult when Riccardo refuses to shut up about it. He just keeps talking about training, about the team, about Inzaghi, about how he cannot wait to be back on the pitch…  
  
Andrea is happy for him – of course he is – but at the same time there is an unexplainable feeling of unease whenever Riccardo brings up his almost finished rehabilitation. Seeing his obvious excitement makes Andrea feel like an outsider, like suddenly Riccardo does not need him anymore: like he is only the second best.  
  
He knows it does not make sense, because football has always taken priority in their relationship, for the both of them: that is how they have made it work for so long. Playing in different teams was never a problem before Riccardo’s injury, either, and there is no reason why there would be any problems now that he is healthy again.  
  
But in spite of his better judgement, Andrea has not been able to shake the uncomfortable feeling away.  
  
He still remembers how Riccardo looked right after he got injured – so lost and broken – and he never wants to see him looking like that again. Definitely not while playing for Milan, where Andrea cannot be there to pick him up.  
  
But that is a thought he could never tell Riccardo, because football means everything to him,  _Milan_  means everything to him.  
  
Andrea cannot tell Riccardo he does not want him to play. He cannot tell him he is afraid Milan might sweep him away for good, steal him from Andrea. He cannot say it, and it would not be true even if he did: Andrea loves watching Riccardo play, seeing the fire lighting up in his eyes, and to take that away would be like killing a part of him.  
  
No, Andrea’s feelings are his own problem, and he would feel like a monster if he ever tried to make Riccardo feel guilty about something he has no control over.  
  
He has not seen Riccardo for weeks – not since Riccardo got back to training with the team, to be exact – because he is afraid he might let something slip, something that could end their relationship. Clashing schedules has been as good an excuse as any, except they both know Andrea could make time for Riccardo if he wanted to, just like he has always done until now.  
  
Riccardo has not said anything yet, though, acting like nothing was out of ordinary. Andrea is not quite sure whether it is a good or a bad sign. At least the almost daily texts and phone calls have made sure Andrea has not been able to pull away completely, so he might still have a chance.  
  
Andrea reads Riccardo’s short message again as he walks out of the airport in Turin, following the lead of his teammates silently. Suddenly he realizes this is the longest time they have spent apart since the World Cup – and he misses Riccardo like crazy.  
  
It is the middle of the night, but Andrea does not let that stop him as he takes the highway towards Milan, driving almost on autopilot, the route to Riccardo’s apartment so familiar he could probably make his way there even in his sleep.  
  
The apartment is dark and silent as Andrea enters with his own key: Riccardo had given it to him after the news about his divorce first broke out, telling him he could always use the place if he needed to escape the paparazzi. Andrea had thought it fair enough at the time, considering Riccardo was the main reason for his divorce in the first place.  
  
As he walks through the soundless living room, a sudden thought that maybe Riccardo is not home hits Andrea – the players are supposed to stay at Milanello for the night before the match, after all.  
  
Andrea  _needs_  him to be there: he has grown so used to having Riccardo around during his recovery that remembering how things used to be has become nothing but an afterthought. It scares Andrea, because he has never felt so dependent on anyone before.  
  
He walks through the open bedroom door and finds Riccardo curled up in the bed, and he can finally breathe out the sigh of relief he did not realize he was holding.  
  
Riccardo has the covers wrapped tightly around his body and his face is pressed into Andrea’s pillow. The sight makes Andrea smile involuntarily, even though there is no way the pillow smells like anything other than Riccardo himself by now.  
  
He looks beautiful like this, Andrea thinks as he crouches down next to the bed and reaches out to stroke Riccardo’s messy curls. The pale moonlight seeping between the curtains is the only source of light in the room, and it gives Riccardo’s skin almost a bluish hue.  
  
At that moment, he cannot even remember why he had stayed away for so long.  
  
“I’m sorry for being an idiot,” he whispers only half-audibly, not quite sure if he wants to wake Riccardo up or if just watching him sleep would be better, “I’m just so scared I might lose you.”  
  
The choice is taken from him when Riccardo turns his head and leans into his touch, letting out a sleepy grumble before actually speaking, blinking his eyes open reluctantly, “You  _are_  an idiot.”  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Andrea apologizes again, his fingers still combing through Riccardo’s hair, smoothing down the strands sticking in the air. He leans in to brush of a chaste kiss on Riccardo’s lips to greet him properly, earning a soft whine when he pulls away too fast for Riccardo’s liking.  
  
“Come to bed, stupid,” Riccardo mumbles, his face half-hidden against the pillow, “The coach only let me come home for the night after I promised I’d be sure to get enough sleep before the game.”  
  
“Doesn’t sound like the Pippo I know,” Andrea comments dryly, but moves to pull his shirt over his head nonetheless, quickly stripping down to his boxers, dropping the clothes carelessly on the floor.  
  
“Told him it was a family emergency, and it’s not like I’m gonna get any playing minutes anyways,” Riccardo explains as he reluctantly moves to his own side of the bed, creating enough room for Andrea to slip between the covers, “He told me to kick your ass for him for distracting his match-prep.”  
  
“Warning duly noted,” Andrea retorts solemnly.  
  
He is not surprised at all that Pippo would know about them – they have not been making much effort to keep their relationship secret from their teams, anyways – but he is a bit alarmed that Riccardo apparently had been waiting for him to come over.  
  
Sometimes it seems like Riccardo knows Andrea better than Andrea knows himself.  
  
“I missed you,” he tells Riccardo instead of questioning him, moving towards to centre of the bed until he can press his chest against Riccardo’s back, his arm fitting around his waist perfectly, like it was made for it, “I’m sorry for making you wait.”  
  
“And yet you always do it,” Riccardo grumbles in response, but he is snuggling closer to Andrea even as he speaks, until they are pressed flush together from shoulder to hip, their legs entangled. He turns his head just enough so he can see Andrea’s face, “And I’ll always wait for you. Because I’m not going anywhere. So you should just stop being an idiot about it.”  
  
“I know,” Andrea answers, trying to sound like he actually means it. He really does, he tells his silently protesting mind, and he can almost believe it. The temptation to apologize again is almost overpowering, but Andrea manages to avoid it by catching Riccardo’s lips into another chaste kiss before he concludes, “You have no idea how much I love you.”  
  
“Trust me,  _I know_ ,” Riccardo echoes his reply on purpose. Andrea can feel his lips curling into a smile under his as they close the distance again, and the kiss that follows is much longer than the previous ones – it tastes like a mixture of relief and fear and trust.  
  
Riccardo wriggles his hips deliberately as he breaks the kiss, rubbing his backside against Andrea’s growing erection, his cheeky smile only half-visible in the dark room, “You know Pippo’s gonna kill you for this, right?”  
  
“He knew the risks when he sent you to me,” Andrea retorts with a chuckle, even though his old friend is the last thing he wants to think about right at that moment, “I can’t be held accountable for his mistakes.”  
  
Riccardo hums softly in response before his slips his hands under the waistband of his own boxers and pushes them down to his thighs, “You’re so lucky to have me, someone else might just leave you hanging.”  
  
“I don’t want anyone else,” Andrea reminds him quietly as he pushes down his own underwear before wrapping his arm around Riccardo’s waist again. He rubs his erection against the firm buttocks and grasps Riccardo’s cock at the same time, enjoying the sound of the sharp gasp he receives in return.  
  
Andrea gives Riccardo’s cock a few slow strokes, careful to caress the tip each time, gathering the few drops of precome on his fingers. He then rubs the fluid between Riccardo’s buttocks, against his entrance, without even trying to push in even though Riccardo whines softly and tries to push back against the fingers.  
  
Andrea spits on his palm and strokes his own cock to reduce the friction some more, and then he presses his length between the cheeks, jerking his hips against Riccardo, thrusting his cock over his hole without entering.  
  
He keeps one of his hands on his own cock to control the friction while the other returns to Riccardo’s erection that is growing harder with each push over his entrance. Riccardo’s hand follows his, their fingers entwining on his length, and together they find a steady rhythm that matches the movements of Andrea’s hips.  
  
Andrea is nuzzling Riccardo’s neck, his desire to kiss him overpowered by his need to hear him: the silent gasps turning into soft whimpers before he actually moans, signalling his approaching orgasm.  
  
Riccardo comes first, his body shuddering softly against Andrea’s before relaxing completely, his seed dripping over Andrea’s fingers. Andrea finishes himself off with a few firm jerks on his own cock, letting his cum seep over Riccardo’s entrance, rubbing the tip between the buttocks one more time.  
  
He wraps his arm around Riccardo’s waist and pulls him tightly against his chest without letting him clean himself up first, mouthing his shoulder and neck lazily until Riccardo twists his upper body enough to allow him to kiss him properly.  
  
“I  _am_  lucky to have you,” Andrea whispers against Riccardo’s lips, “So lucky that sometimes I think it can’t be real.”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” Riccardo reminds him softly, lifting his hand to caress Andrea’s face reassuringly, “Have some faith in me, will you?”  
  
“I’ll try,” Andrea promises, dropping a few more chaste kisses on Riccardo’s face before they finally settle down between the sheets, the post-coital exhaustion lulling Andrea into a deep slumber before he even realizes the previous unease is all but gone.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Monto actually stayed at Milanello for the night, and I doubt Pippo would’ve let him go home for an “emergency” like this but meh, my story, my rules.  
> \- I’m really busy this week, but I wanted to get this out before either of them played again – which means I didn’t use as much time on proofreading as I normally would. Might come back for some minor edits later on.  
> \- I’m still stunned with my ability to make even my fluffy fics so-- unfluffy? The angst just demanded to be written here.  
> \- Comments would be lovely!


End file.
